


Good "Girl"

by LoveAllMyChildren



Category: Eminem (Musician)
Genre: Forced Feminization, Hate Sex, Kinda hate sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Pegging, Rough Sex, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Reader, but not really, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveAllMyChildren/pseuds/LoveAllMyChildren
Summary: “Oh-ho you say that now, babe, but who knows later?” He says, finally making eye contact. His face is flushed and the veins on his arms are raised and all you can think about is how hot he looked stressed out. You can’t help but think of the many possible ways to relieve him of that stress.“You’re worried about me internalizing it, taking it out on you later, and fucking over our relationship, huh?” You say, sauntering over to get into his face. You have to look up at him a little.“I mean, yeah. I just don’t wanna fight with you.” He says, meeting your eyes but shifting nervously.You nod slowly. “I’ll just take it out on you now then.”
Relationships: Eminem/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Good "Girl"

**Author's Note:**

> I've gone and done it again. I'm just a little down bad for Eminem. Only a little. Please tell me how it was in the comments!

‘There are too many damn people here’ you think, brushing a hair out of your face. Marshall’s hand is warm on your waist. You’re trying not to squint too much at the constant flash of lights from what seems like hundreds of cameras. You try to look mysterious or something like that as you look off to the distance and fix your collar. The silk, dark green button-up now lay slightly open and your tight, black dress pants gave you a nice figure. At least that’s what you hoped so you didn’t have to endure jealous teenagers in your fucking Instagram comments calling you ugly. Then again, you smirked, that was gonna happen no matter what you did. Marshall leans over into your ear while you look out into the crowd, “You good?”

“Sure.” You respond. He’s wearing the same thing with the addition of a black blazer over an open white button-up. His gold chain swings gently as he guides you to follow him. You’re glad to be going somewhere that isn’t this damn red carpet, but you aren’t free yet. You try not to let your exasperation show when some interviewer stops you both, mic in hand and an annoyingly bright smile. 

“And here we have everyone’s new favorite rapper Eminem, otherwise known as Slim Shady. How are you doing this evening?” You gaze off again, not exactly invested in the conversation. Feels too weird.

“Hey, I’m good. How you doin’?” Marshall smiles. You’re glad he’s charismatic enough for you both. 

“I’m good! So, who do we have here?” The interviewer smiles looking at you. She tilts the mic towards you, so you guessed it was your time to speak. However, you’ve barely taken in a breath to speak before your boyfriend answers for you. 

“This is my girlfriend.” He interjects, rubbing your side. 

You are not his girlfriend. 

You are very much his boyfriend. He knows this, and he loves and respects you. Yet, for some reason, you were back to being his girlfriend. You know he’s not ashamed of you being trans. In fact, he was your number one supporter when you first came out; but, at that moment that life-altering revelation gone completely out the window. You didn’t say anything, just smiled and went along with it. It’s fine. Really. 

Your eyes lower to the floor as they carry on. Empty banter like ‘Where did you two meet?’, ‘You two are so cute together!’, and ‘Can we expect any more projects soon?’ wash over you without you paying too much attention. When they’re done, you give the interviewer a charming smile before you both move on. You truly hate these events, but you pride yourself on being supportive. Supportive. 

  
  


The car ride home is quiet. You lie with your head back against the seat on the other side of the limo. The gentle hum is calming and almost lulls you to sleep. You would sleep if you were able to ignore the tension in the air. The sheer thickness of it kept you awake enough to feel the guilt radiating off of your boyfriend on the other side of the car. You’ve decided you didn’t care about what he said in that annoying interview. You were secure enough in your identity to just brush it off. Still, you didn’t tell him that. It was only fair that you let him sweat. At least until you get home. 

You feel a little bad when you see him erratically bouncing his leg from his position. You couldn’t help but think about how hot he looked worried. He sat slouching with an elbow on the car door, his head in his hands as he looked out the window. His legs spread wide, shiny black shoe bouncing up and down. His blazer was a little crooked and his open shirt wrinkled. Yeah, you understand. 

When the limo finally stopped, Marsh was the first one out. Yeesh. You got out as well, patting your pockets even though your phone was the only thing you had brought with you. It was safely tucked into your slacks so you moved on. You walk into the kitchen to see him leaning against the white counter. He’s lost the blazer and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Shit. 

He rubs his mouth and scratches the back of his head before saying, “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said what I said I just kind of panicked and-”

You look away with a chuckle before turning back to respond, “It’s fine, M.”

“No, no it’s not! We needa talk about this now because if we don’t it’s gonna come back to bite me in the ass.” He says throwing up a hand. ‘Bite you in the ass, huh?’

“It’s honestly fine, I understand-” 

“No, you always do this! I-I fuck up and you say it’s fine and then you hold all that shit up and we end up having a big ass fight.” He says strained. His hands are flailing now, 

‘How is this suddenly a me problem?’ A monotone voice in your head says. “M, I promise I won’t take it out on you later.” Ok, you kind of did in the car but that’s not relevant right now. 

“Oh-ho you say that now, babe, but who knows later?” He says, finally making eye contact. His face is flushed and the veins on his arms are raised and all you can think about is how hot he looked stressed out. You can’t help but think of the many possible ways to relieve him of that stress. 

“You’re worried about me internalizing it, taking it out on you later, and fucking over our relationship, huh?” You say, sauntering over to get into his face. You have to look up at him a little.

“I mean, yeah. I just don’t wanna fight with you.” He says, meeting your eyes but shifting nervously. 

You nod slowly. “I’ll just take it out on you now then.” You bring him to you by the collar and kiss him. His brow is furrowed in confusion, but you ignore it. You drag him to the bedroom, throwing him to the bed. He sits there, his collar wrinkled while you roam around, looking for something. ‘Good enough’ You think, opting for a black tie you found in the closet. 

“Give me your hands.” You can tell he knows where this is going by the glint in his eye. He puts out his hands together, wrists facing upwards. You smile at the mischief in his eyes as you tie both hands separately before tying them both together to the bedpost. You knot them with experience- he’s not getting out of those without assistance. 

You take a moment to enjoy the picture your boyfriend makes. He’s lying down, tied up, and completely disheveled. Those pretty blue eyes look at you with slight apprehension, yet his legs are spread open. You bend down to the side table where you hold an assortment of toys. You consider the different sized dildos and settle on one that’s around 9 inches. It’s solid black, thick, and heavy in your hand. You grab your strap-on and a bottle of lube which you move to lay on the other side of the bed. You look back at a squirming Marshall who’s worrying his lip between his teeth.

“What’re you gonna do to me?” He whines out, feet slowly peddling into the bed. 

“You know exactly what I’m going to do to you.” You scoff. You climb onto the bed and push his legs apart. They lay on your thighs as you slowly unbutton his pants. He thrusts up slowly, rubbing the soft material into your hands. You’ve barely done anything to him yet. His rocking slows as you drag his pants down over his knees and past his ankles. They land on the floor with a muted thump. 

You stroke him through his boxers languidly, feeling him hardening under your touch. You look up at him. He tosses his head every now and then, cheeks red and brow creased. He looks so fucking pretty like this. You grab his briefs next, enjoying the way his dick springs out before pulling them all the way off. He takes a sharp intake of breath from the cold air hitting his dick. You chuckle at that and decide to neglect it. 

He gives a whine when he notices this, but you continue to ignore him by spreading his legs wider for you. Most courtesies you would have given the rapper have flown out the window. Especially when you cover two fingers in lube and firmly press one finger into his ass. 

“Ah, that hurts take it out now!” He cries out, arching his hips. You press it deeper in and brush his prostate before sliding it almost all the way out. 

  
  
  
  


“Ah w-wait a minute, fuck, put it back in.” He groans at the spike of pleasure that reverberates through his body. You smile softly at that. You slide it back in deeper, stroking in a ‘come hither’ motion. When he’s not as tight on your finger anymore, you add the other one. He moans at the stretch, throwing his head back.

You scissor your fingers, opening up as efficiently as you know how to. He writhes like you’ve started fucking him already. You’re honestly just getting started. You pull your fingers out, watching as his ass clinches around nothing. The whine that followed was messing with your head in all the right ways and sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You grab your dick, putting it on and covering it in lube. 

“Babe, wait. I don’t know if I can take it.” You realized this would be his first time with this size. Your only thought had been to punish him by filling him up real good and rearranging his damn guts. You look up into those pretty eyes of his. His pupils are blown with arousal, but he still looks worried. 

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see then, won’t we?” You say, guiding the huge phallus to his hole. 

“Wa- SHIT! P-plea- fuck.” He garbles out as you slowly guide in the thick head. His thighs wobble and he lets out a low sob. You’re carefully easing more and more into him, checking the look on his face. He looks down at where the dildo disappears into him, eyes half-lidded and mouth lying open in a harsh ‘o’ shape. His cries die in his throat. 

You pause, around five inches in. You chuckle at how hard of a time he seems to be having. Your cock is only three inches thick and slims off a bit towards the tip. It's not that much. His legs are trembling, so you throw one over your shoulder and hold the other in your arm. You settle into a more comfortable position and watch his face for any sign of serious discomfort. When you only find the beginnings of impatience you smile. 

“You can take all of it like a good girl, can’t you?” You purr.

“Wha- aH.” He moans out when you press in more before smoothly sliding back out. You add more lube to make the slide smoother. The sticky white of it coats your dick and disappears into your boyfriend and around his taught rim. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you start fucking him rough and unyielding. 

He squeaks and squirms and struggles against his restraints. The blush from his face now covers his sweaty chest. “You’re taking it so well baby girl.” You praise, resting your forehead against his leg as you slam into him over and over and over. The rapid slapping noises resound in the room. You can tell you’re hitting the right spot every time with the way he jerks involuntarily and whiles uncontrollably. 

“Please, please. please.”He repeats deliriously. You slide your other hand down his thigh and to his dick. You’re careful not to stimulate him when you grip the base of it firmly. “Noooo!” He whines out. You watch tears fall from his eyes in frustration. Fuck is he beautiful. 

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” You taunt, making it obvious you expect an answer. He lets out a wrecked sob as you slowly roll your hips, fully seated into him. 

“Fuck, fuck ok I am. Yes.” You don’t think that’s good enough for you. 

“You’re what?” You say, thrusting into him at a snails pace that was obviously making him upset. 

“S-shit. I’m your good girl.” 

“Yeah?”

“Fuck,” he throws his head back into the pillow, “yes, yes I’m your good girl. I’m such a good girl!” He cries out. “Just please fuck me already!”

You laugh. “Anything for you, baby girl.” The moan he lets out when you release his cock and start nailing him again is loud and broken apart by sobs. You revel in it, picking up the pace. You’re as eager to finish as he is at this point, so you do the both of you a favor. You stroke his dick in time with your thrusts, and he cums almost immediately. 

His scream goes silent halfway through and his hips stutter violently. You savor the moment as much as possible as you fuck him through his orgasm. When his hips hit the bed again he’s shaking like a wet kitten. You stroke his thighs gently and stare at his blissed-out face, his eyes closed tightly. They open slowly to look at you and you gaze back lovingly. 

“You scare me.” He laughs weakly. You raise an eyebrow in a silent inquiry. 

“You know exactly how to fuck me up.” he elaborates. He looks so tired, aftershocks still running through him. You pull out of him slowly, his weak whine ringing in your ears. 

“Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I finished this at 4AM holy shi-


End file.
